A Few Of Her Favourite Things
by Caprica Janeway
Summary: After Emma sets Andrea up on a date that goes badly, the two of them discuss what exactly constitutes 'the right person'. (Emma/Andrea shipper fic).


**A/N:** I accidentally started shipping these two romantically after writing them as friends in my last mentorship fic "To Catch A Cloud And Pin It Down". So technically this is my first shipper fic for them. I reference Emma's mother and dog from the previous fic, but other than that you don't need to read my other stories to follow this one. Enjoy!

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"No, no, no, no, no," Andrea said, looking up from her paper work.

"I haven't even entered the room yet," Emma replied, pushing the door open and taking a seat opposite Andrea.

Andrea allowed her eyes to look up from her paperwork to briefly glare at the younger woman, before looking down again. "I don't remember inviting you to sit."

Emma tilted her head. A smile strained through her features as she rose from her chair and began adjusting the bracelets on her wrist.

"So the date..."

"The outing," Andrea corrected.

"I'm guessing that perhaps it didn't go so well."

Andrea looked up again and forced a smiled at Emma. The expression had the desired effect on the other woman, and she found herself inching back from Andrea's desk.

Andrea sighed, releasing the strained look on her face. She pushed her chair back and made her way to the filing cabinet beside her. Andrea shuffled her papers against the cabinet. The volume at which the papers hit the cabinet seemed to increase with each document she added. The increasing frustration she expressed while sorting the documents only made Emma's expression gape wider with concern.

"Ah, would you like me to help?" Emma asked, tentatively walking to Andrea's side.

Andrea suddenly stopped shuffling the pages and turned to look at Emma with a sudden pained expression. She put the papers down and shook her left hand, before pressing a thumb against her finger.

"Paper cut?" Emma asked.

Andrea nodded her head. Kissing her own finger, she turned to sit on the small lounge across from her desk. "You can sit here if you like," Andrea tilted her head to the side.

Emma moved slowly across the room and placed her hand on the arm of the couch as Andrea looked up at her.

"I meant that chair," Andrea added, pointing at the arm chair next to her couch.

"Right," Emma replied, slowly taking a seat. "How's the hand?" She asked.

Andrea stopped rubbing her hand and moved her hands to either side of her. "Rios, would you say I'm fussy? That I have overly high standards in people? That I'm unapproachable?"

"Um... Well," Emma began to reply.

"You're taking too long to answer."

"Well, you wouldn't let me sit on the couch."

Andrea scrunched her eyebrows and let her shoulders sag. She looked over at Emma, and then inched her way along the couch. "It's a new couch. Try not to leave any hair on it."

Emma stood up and checked her coat. She smoothed down the material, looking for flecks of dust and hair that didn't exist. "Hair? Oh I don't wear my suits around the dog. I keep my business attire quite clean." She said, sitting down next to Andrea.

Andrea looked carefully from the other woman's head down to her back. She ignored the outfit Emma was wearing, instead focusing on the long strands of shiny black hair that touched the back of her couch. "I was referring to your hair, not Herbie's. How is he doing by the way?"

Emma gathered her hair together, and carefully pulled it over one shoulder. "Oh he's good. He actually moved from one end of the house to the other yesterday without me offering him a treat."

Andrea smiled at the image of the old dog. A genuine smile this time, sighing she looked over at Emma who was precariously sitting on the edge of the couch. "Listen, I understand that you were trying to do the friend thing and set me up on a date, but honestly... I'm just not very... What's the word? I guess it just takes a lot for me to click with people, and I think I just need it to happen naturally."

"Sharon suggested-"

Andrea looked over at Emma and sent her an expression that clearly said 'don't finish that sentence'.

"We just thought that you and Michael might get along outside of work. You know, in a romantic setting."

"Michael Stewart is at least ten years younger than me. What on earth did you think we would have in common?"

Emma licked her lips and looked up to the ceiling. She had to look away for a moment to try and remember what it was exactly about Michael that made her think they would be a good match. She could tell from her peripheral vision that Andrea was starting to get agitated again so she just thought of the first thing that came to mind.

"He's the same age as me, and we get on fine and have plenty to talk about. I don't see what age has to do with anything."

"That's different-"

"How? How is it different? We seem to bridge the age barrier fine, and can relate to each other. What was different about Michael?" Andrea wasn't looking at Emma any more and it was becoming confusing. She was starting to wish she hadn't pushed the matter.

"We're... Friends, I guess. That probably makes a difference. We already have conversations to fall back to, and we aren't dating, so it's not really a relevant comparison." Andrea clarified.

"Right, ok then. I guess I'll keep that in mind-"

"Don't say next time Rios. I'm not indulging you anymore."

Emma bit her bottom lip. Staying where she was, she stretched out an awkward hand to pat Andrea's hand with. Andrea just turned her head towards Emma and raised an eyebrow at the gesture.

"I was going to suggest Lydia Marshell over in accounting..."

"Who?" Andrea asked.

"You know, Lydia. Tall, brunette, long legs, she wears a lot of red, and works with Steve Dempsy sometimes."

Andrea looked in front of her, eyes darting from one end of the room to the other as she tried to picture the woman. "I don't think I know-"

"You know her. She's the one you were waiting with outside Judge Reywood's office. You were both complaining together about the air-conditioning on level two."

"Oh, her. Emma I think she has a boyfriend, and besides what made you think we'd be a match?"

Emma kept wishing she would stop asking these questions, or at least start asking ones she had definite answers for. "I just thought that you seemed to get on well when you were both complaining about the air conditioning..."

"Bonding over things we hate is not the ideal premise for a new relationship."

"Well I hate to break it to you, but our mild contempt for the coffee on level 3 has been our fall back discussion topic for the last two years."

Andrea looked over at Emma who seemed rather pleased with herself. She shook her head, and looked back at the paper cut she had earned from airing out her frustrations on her filing. She felt ridiculous, more than that she felt embarrassed. She looked over at Emma who now seemed confused at the sustained quiet.

"I really hated that coffee. More than that, I hated that it could actually have be half decent coffee if the barista actually concentrated on the task at hand, and didn't burn the beans. I'm so glad that guy decided to change jobs. What did he say he was becoming? A Life Coach?" Andrea asked.

"Some sort of spiritualist I believe." Emma replied.

"Remind me to send my thanks to whatever deity provided that calling."

Emma just nodded slowly, biting her lip, trying not to be amused. "Listen, if it makes you that uncomfortable I'll stop setting you up with anyone. It's just that you've been working a lot lately, and you only seem to socialise with me. I thought maybe it might break up your week a bit to go out with someone else."

Andrea got off the couch and walked over to her desk. She poured them both a glass of water, and passed one to Emma before sitting down. "You're not exactly filling up your Facebook feed with events and parties Emma."

"That's different though."

"Why? Why do I need to be socialising more than you?" Andrea asked, taking a sip of her water.

Emma put her glass on the table beside her, careful to show Andrea that she remembered the coaster this time. She turned back to her and shrugged her shoulders. "You have a lot to offer the right person."

"Emma..."

"Yes?"

"There is no right person. It just doesn't work like that. Even if it did, I just don't want someone else doing the choosing."

"Then why did you go on the date in the first place? You could have said no. You've frequently said no to my suggestions before. I don't understand why this was any different."

Andrea picked up a small tube of cream from her side table. Leaning back on the couch, she started applying it to her hand.

"It made you happy. Your mother had a bad night the night before, and setting me up on a date seemed to keep your mind off things. I guess I decided that you were worth restraining my exacerbation for."

It was Emma's turn to raise an eyebrow now. She looked over to the woman next to her. Andrea's shoulders were rigid, and she kept tilting her head slightly as if she was trying to adjust a knot.

"I'm a little disappointed Andrea."

Andrea had stopped rubbing the cream into her hand and leaned forward. "How so?"

Emma shrugged her shoulder, and leaning past her she picked up the tube of cream Andrea left on the table. "Oh I just thought you enjoyed getting irritated at me. I thought that was our thing, and here you are being kind. Here give me your hand."

Andrea looked down at her hands, and over to Emma's which were now cradling the tube of cream she was using. "Um..."

"What?" Emma asked.

"Well why?"

"You've left some cream on your hands you haven't rubbed in properly. If you give me your hands I can fix it."

Andrea was unsure. She looked at Emma who seemed utterly convinced this is something she should do, and in the other woman's conviction Andrea relented and extended her hands.

"You know you could have just told me, and I could have rubbed the cream in properly myself."

Emma smiled but ignored her friend's complaint, and instead of just rubbing the cream that was still on Andrea's hands, Emma added more. Placing it on her thumb, Emma gently rubbed the cream into the crevasse between Andrea's thumb and index finger. As she slowly applied pressure to the spot, she saw out of her peripheral vision Andrea's chest rise and fall as she relaxed into the ministrations.

"How's your head?" Emma asked, increasing the pressure in the spot, then releasing it again.

"A little better actually. Wait, how did you know I had a headache?" Andrea replied, opening her eyes, and sitting a little straighter.

Emma released her hands and gently placed them back in Andrea's lap. She put her hands up in the air in a shrug, "I irritate you, or at least annoy you. I just figured you might have a headache because I'm here."

Andrea just stared at the other woman for what felt like the longest time. Emma became so still and relaxed. She seemed strangely comfortable in being a problem, but equally eager to become a solution. Andrea just didn't get her, but she also surprised herself by wanting an excuse for Emma to pick up her hands again.

Andrea shrugged her shoulders, "I don't mind being annoyed."

"Well that's good to know," Emma replied.

"Wait, why do you say that?"

"That barista you hate realised that god's calling doesn't pay the rent. He starts work here again on Monday."

Emma watched Andrea's jaw tighten and heard her breath become audible even with her lips clenched together. Shuffling closer, Emma picked up her friend's hand and began her ministrations once more. The tightness in her hand slowly began to soften, and Emma watched as Andrea's other hand moved over to her arm. Her fingers gently patted Emma's arm before moving away.

"I guess I'll have to learn to love tea."


End file.
